Charlie's Whiskey

by Harlow Brown

  "You got a ring yet?" he asked.

  "Nah, man. This was as unexpected for me as it was her. I've thought about it since I asked her, but I'm trying to decide if I want her to choose it or not."

  Jazz chimed in, "Do you want her to have a fancy ring?"

  "If that's what she wants."

  "She’ll get the least expensive thing so you aren't spending any money on her."

  "Well that's settled, then. I'll be picking the ring," I replied as I rolled my eyes.

  "She doesn't like people making a fuss over her," Briar explained.

  "Well, that changed when she became my girl. I'm going to spend my life making up for the time I wasn't in hers. Maybe it'll be enough to convince her that she’s worth the effort."

  "And you were worried about him breaking her heart, Briar." Jazz laughed.

  "I might break her headboard or knock down some curtain rods, but her heart will remain intact. That I assure you." With that, I drank the last of my coffee and headed back into the house. My little gorilla-loving tree climber needed to be checked on. Gently pushing open the door, I peeked in. She wasn't in bed, so I went into the bathroom and heard her softly singing Pop Evil's “Monster You Made.”

  "Babes? You okay?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Just wondering if you were washing off the dirt and grime from your tree climbing with Raige and your gorilla, that's all," I said as pokerfaced as I could, in hopes of throwing her off.

  "Whiskey, have you been drinking already?"

  "Nope. You were excited for Raige to get here so you could climb apple trees with her, and you wanted a gorilla. Words straight from your mouth, sweetheart." I bet she could hear the smile in my voice without seeing my face. It was becoming trickier to hide my laughter.

  "Great. The newness hasn't even worn off and I'm talking in my sleep. What are you doing to me?"

  "I could ask you the same, babes. You're making me soft."

  "RAIGE!" I RAN over to hug her.

  "Charlie girl! You ready for a kickin' good time? It's going down tonight." She grinned.

  I looked into the bag that hung from her shoulder; she was packing Jäger and Fireball whiskey.

  "Double damn, you weren't kidding."

  "Nope." She turned me loose and grabbed my hand, then flipped it over. "You get a tat?"

  "Nope, I had a random stranger color on me with markers," I replied to her dumb here's your sign question. "Hell yes, it's a tattoo. I didn't think through the timing of it, though. I'll have to keep it covered so dirt doesn't get in it while we are on the field. And I'll have to keep it covered while I'm in the sun on the beach. But I don't care. It's worth it."

  She looked at it a little longer, then said, "It's aight."

  "If that means all right, then thanks. I dig it too."

  "Okay, enough chick love for us. Haze, Rumor, Gypsy, get your asses over here."

  I greeted them all with just as much enthusiasm.

  As we gave our hugs, Whiskey came out in jeans and no shirt with his hair down. All four girls stopped and stared at the beauty that is my man. I turned to see what the world stopped revolving for and was caught staring just as they were. Finally, my words formed and my feet started moving towards the man walking to me. "Girls, this is Whiskey. Whiskey, this is Raige, Rumor, Haze, and Gypsy."

  "Hey, girls. Make yourself at home."

  "Charlie, what have we missed? Why is this sexy shirtless man hugging you?" Haze questioned.

  "Long story. Let's just leave it at he's my new… everything."

  I dropped it, but Rumor didn't. "What happened to Hensley?"

  It wasn’t her fault; she had no idea. It still pissed Whiskey off, though. I could see the way he cut his eyes at her and the way his jaw twitched as he tried to bite his tongue.

  "Let's just say that he isn't a part of my life anymore. Now let's forget his name. Whiskey came into my life at the right time, and I'm more in love than I have ever been."

  Raige was skeptical, as always. "What do you mean? Something doesn't add up. Has this fucker hurt you? Do I need to whip his ass? There's no way you are 'in love' with him. Hensley hasn't been gone long at all because you were still together at our last practice and you’ve known this guy for about ten minutes. What gives, Charlie?"

  "Raige, Whiskey saved me. That's all I'm saying right now. He came to me when I needed him most. I can't explain why I’m head over heels for him already, and I don't want to. I spent enough time not being happy. In the 'ten minutes' you think I’ve known him, he’s done more for me than that sorry sack of shit did for me in the three years I was with him. And for the record, we were not together last practice. I just didn't bring it up because the ball field is my safe haven and I don’t have to think about anything else while I'm there."

  Whiskey chimed in. "Hensley won't be in her life again, period. That is all you girls need to know unless Charlie sees it differently. She’s my girl now. End of story. Enough talk of him. Let's get you girls inside and unpacked."

  We walked into the beach house. The girls, most of them, had excited grins and joy-filled eyes upon entering the impressive home. Haze let words fall out before she thought, which was the norm for her. "Holy shit, Batman and Robin. This is the nicest place I've ever been in." Awe practically dripped off her.

  Whiskey said, "This is our beach clubhouse."

  Confusion etched on each of their faces.

  Rumor spat out first, "Clubhouse? What the fuck are you talking about? What are you into, Charlie?"

  "Whiskey is in a motorcycle club, the Chosen Legion. This is their beach house, and they will be accompanying us to the tournament."

  "MC? Like that show Sons of Anarchy that was created by the manuscript genius, mind- fuck-extraordinaire Kurt Sutter?" Haze thought out loud, which she was excellent at.

  "Yes, but not gruesome and violent."

  "Law-abiding too," Whiskey said, playful sarcasm oozing off him.

  Raige had her usual pissy scowl, skepticism clearly evident. "So, let's get this straight. You break up with your boyfriend, hook up with a biker, and then invite your friends to their clubhouse?"

  "That's right."

  "Sounds like you thought this through."

  I loved her, really I did, but she was starting to piss me off. She had way surpassed pissing Whiskey off; I could tell by the way he kept looking at me. I also knew that if I didn't get Raige under control he was going to do it for me, and that would be terrible. I decided to give them a very fast, very safe rundown of the past few days. Then they would understand.

  "Okay. Since you think I'm so incompetent at making grown-up decisions on my own, I'm going to tell you in a very brief nutshell about my life over the past three years with Hensley. Then I want you to forget I said anything and never speak of it again. And for fuck's sake, give me some credit. I have goddamned brains."

  Whiskey stood by me with his arms crossed over his chest and feet shoulder-width apart, looking like a bodyguard instead of a lover.

  "The three years Hensley and I were together, he raped and beat me. I finally got my fill and shot him, but the fucker’s still alive because I hit his shoulder. He has since threatened me, put tracking devices on my car, and begged me to come home. The Chosen Legion has seen the bruises and scars. They’re keeping us safe from him because he’s fucking crazy and we don't know when he’ll strike again. They’re not here to hurt us. I know they’re a little on the scary side upon first meeting them, but I promise you they’re the best people any of us have ever met. They didn't know me from Eve, but I’m Briar's family, and Whiskey's girl, so they took me in with no questions asked. Seeing as y’all are my family, they’ll be the same with you. They offered their protection to us, so suck it up and quit being so goddamned judgmental. Hensley looked like the all-American guy, clean cut and all that, but turns out he was the scum of the earth. These guys might look a little bit gruffer, but I assure you they are way better people than the asshole I was with for years."
r />   Deafening silence consumed the front room as my words and admissions sank into their heads.

  Haze spoke first. "Briar is part of them too?"

  "Yes, he is, and has been for a long time. You girls have seen him at the games and know who I'm talking about. Does he look like a dude who will fuck with you? No. I didn't think so. Those two are my best friends. Briar wouldn't have let this happen if it weren’t safe."

  Raige didn't say anything, just looked sad. Rumor was the one who looked pissed, which was backward. "Raige, you all right?"

  "Yeah, I just didn't have any clue you were that miserable with Hensley."

  "No one did, not even Jazz and Briar, so knock it off. We're at the beach, for crying out loud. Let's have a good time."

  I turned to look at Rumor. "Hey, princess, why the piss-poor look?"

  Her answer could not have surprised me more.

  "I'm pissed the fuck off. You… you’re with us at least three or four days a week and didn't find it necessary to turn to us for help. You put up with shit for three years and couldn't even lean on us for support."

  "Rumor, you don't know the whole story."

  "You're right, I don't, because you won't tell me. Hell, you won't tell us. You just throw it in our faces all at once and expect us to be hunky-dory with it."

  "Look, all you need to know is that he did it, and he said if I told anyone he would make it worse on me and would hurt my friends. I was protecting you girls, and Jazz too."

  The look she wore went from pissed to realization of why I did it, that I wasn't selfish at all.

  "Charlie, I'm sorry. I just feel like I've been hit by a busload of information, and I only want to help you."

  "And you can. Let it go, meet Whiskey and his brothers, and then come with me and kick some ass on the field. Bring home a championship with me and all will be right as rain in my world."

  Even though I’d told them that they were good guys, I knew they would have to find that out for themselves. With a look of uncertainty, they each nodded at me and made their way through the front room to the patio.

  I turned to the man beside me. "Whiskey, when will Magnum, Chief, and Fury be coming over?"

  "Not sure, but there's probably going to be more than just them. Shooter and Riddick will likely be here too. Hope you girls can handle a good time. Mag and Shooter can, and will not disappoint."

  "What is it with bikers and their odd names? What happened to Tom, Justin, Rick, or Scott? Why are they all verbs and adjectives?"

  "Swell point, Haze, but you’re in a biker clubhouse. Could you please think before you speak? How about we not go making fun of their names and get our asses kicked because we offended them," Rumor said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at her loose-lipped friend. "Our names didn’t exactly come from the New Testament. Gypsy, for crying out loud, is not a normal name. Haze, it’s like you are stuck in some smoky haze, and I often wonder if it isn't from pot!"

  Whiskey was a good sport and answered her questions. "Fury is called Fury because he’s pissed off nine and a half times out of ten. Chief is our president, so he’s our chief. Magnum didn't get his name from packing heat, if you know what I mean. Shooter is lethal with a pistol. Riddick, well… he’s a prospect and I've only met him a couple times, but what I’ve gathered is he’s ridiculously cocky. Riddick seems to suit him. He's a mouthy bastard. It might even be his given name. Who knows?"

  "Okay, that makes sense. But you left one out. Why do they call you Whiskey?"

  "I can out-drink anyone, anytime, anywhere."

  "Oh. What about Briar?"

  I chimed in so poor Whiskey could breathe. "Briar's parents were complex to say the very least. It's his real name, and before you ask, Jazz's name is Jazzlyn. Are we done playing twenty questions now?"

  "You girls want something to eat or drink?" Whiskey offered like a proper host. Raige still didn't have her spunk back about her just yet, but did chime in that she could use a turkey wrap.

  Whiskey and I left them in the great room, looking out at the ocean, as we walked into the kitchen. I stopped him abruptly, asking, "What's your real name?" Then I headed to the fridge to get the turkey.

  "Marshall Evan Williams."

  "No, for real."

  "Marshall Evan Williams."

  "Holy shit! No wonder you’re called Whiskey."

  "But I sound like a badass if people think it's because I can drink like an alcoholic on a four-day bender."

  "Well, Marshall Evan Williams, I prefer Whiskey, if you don't mind."

  "Nope, not at all. I prefer it myself." He paused for a beat. "But let the record show that I, in fact, can drink like a boss."

  "So long as you don't get violent, belligerent, or have a case of whiskey-dick, I don't care how much you drink. You're a big boy and know that shit causes headaches and hangovers. What you do with your body is on you."

  "Babes, I won't ever get violent with you. I won't promise that whiskey-dick won't happen because sometimes it just does." He took a long dramatic pause, then seduced me with his next words. "But Charlie, now that I've had you, I'm not sure there’s any amount of booze that can keep me from performing with you. You do it for me in ways I didn't even know were possible. My dick can withstand any amount of alcohol if it means I get you at the end of the night."

  Well hell’s bells, he’d rendered me speechless and needy all while I was holding a pound and a half of sun-dried tomato turkey. He gently took the lunch meat from me and put it on the countertop, then softly pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. "What's your real name?"

  "Annie Charlene Winstead. It's after my grandma."

  "It's beautiful, just like you. But it will sound so much better when it’s Annie Charlene Williams."

  My eyes filled with tears, but they were the happiest tears I’d ever had. He didn't try to soothe me, just wiped the tears away when they tumbled over my bottom lids. I couldn't wait to be Mrs. Marshall Evan Williams." On that thought, the tears stopped and the giggles ensued.

  "What’s so funny?"

  "I can't wait to be Mrs. Evan Williams."

  "I can't wait to make you my own brand of whiskey."

  No words came for a couple seconds. I could see the wheels turning and knew he wanted to say what he thought I needed to hear, but I didn't.

  "I love you too, Whiskey."

  THE GIRLS WERE on the beach drinking beer and shooting Fireball while the guys and I sat on the patio watching them.

  "Dude, who is that redhead? She's fine as fuck." Magnum gawked at her.

  "Her name is Raige."

  "Fun times to be had with her. That girl is on fire." He had a point. Raige was definitely sexy. She was no Charlie, but not hard to look at either. She had vibrant red hair; the prettiest hazel eyes; long, thick eyelashes; the body of a goddess; and spunk in spades. Raige looked exotic and erotic. Charlie was just lovely, a classic beauty. She had the potential to be exotic with the right outfit and makeup, but I didn't look at her and think she belonged on a pole. Raige looked like she could own a pole and make it her bitch. That was Mag's cup of tea.

  "What are the others’ names? Damn it, man, they all look good."

  I just stared at him, waiting for him to catch what he said.

  "Uh, I mean, all but Charlie. Hold on, she's hot too, but I ain't looking at her—"

  "Shut up. I know what you mean. And you can look but don't touch. And if you look, don't tell me you did. But I know my girl’s hot. It's hard not to look at her."

  I let him catch his breath and gather his wits, then started naming the girls. "Haze is the Native American, Rumor is the other blonde, and Gypsy is the Hispanic-looking one with black hair."

  I looked at the girls and noticed Charlie was so happy, so carefree. She was having such a good time, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was like that on the field. It was no wonder she loved the game so much. If it took her mind off her personal life for any length of time, I was sure she fell in love with it hardco
re. However, she couldn't have just fallen in love in the last three years. Hmmm, there was more to find out.

  The guys and I decided to go down and see the girls and do introductions. Hell, if I didn't, Magnum was going to drive me insane. When we got there, they all looked at us. We were in our board shorts and wifebeater tanks. Haze stared hardcore at Mag and Shooter. Mag didn't pay her much mind, as he was zoned in on Raige. Shooter's eyes met Haze's, and her face turned red. He walked over to her and introduced himself. Magnum made his way to Raige and I heard her say, "Back the fuck off." So I sat by Charlie and listened to their banter.

  "Come on, girl, what’s your name?"

  "It's Raige. Now go away."

  "Well, Raige, I'm Magnum. It's nice to meet you officially. Want a beer?"

  "No, I have a drink. I want you to leave me alone."

  "Fine, have it your way." Mag came back and sat behind Charlie and me.

  "Dude, she is… I can't even think. And she’s playing hard to get. I don't believe she realizes I have all the time in the world and that when I want something I will have it. I'll let her think she’s gotten rid of me, and then I'll slowly make her mine. Temporarily. I don't want a finger weight. "

  "Finger weight?" Charlie asked.

  "Yeah, a ring… finger weight. Get it?"

  "Yeah, I get it. Don't mean it ain't dumb, though."

  Shooter and Haze hit it off like no one ever dreamed. He was totally smitten by her. There might as well have been fireworks ignited when those two sets of eyes met.

  Fury didn't say much. He never did. He did eye Rumor, though, and that said something. Fury didn't pay anyone any mind, ever.

  "Babes, I think they have this under control. Let's break away for a minute, yeah?" I asked Charlie.

  "What do you have in mind, biker boy?"

  "I need you," I said in a sultry, seductive voice, "and I'll make it worth your while. I promise."

  "Oh, well, seeing as I'm needed, I guess I'll accommodate you. I think everyone here is getting acquainted with each other quite well."

  As we tempted to sneak away, we were caught by Haze. She hollered at Charlie, who turned to her girl and gave her a thumbs-up and wave; then we were on our way. Once we reached the back door, I stopped and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her to me. Staring into those big blue eyes, I softly kissed her lips. As badly as I wanted to take her upstairs and have my way with her, I also wanted to be tender and soft. Charlie had ruined me. The old me didn't do tender. That word wasn’t even in my vocabulary—until her.